


Alone With You

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Awkwardness, Coming Out, First Time Blow Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 23:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19306156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: “I was thinking– I mean– could I see you? For your birthday?”It's Simon's nineteenth birthday, and he gets to spend it with Baz. Alone.





	Alone With You

**Simon**

“I was thinking– I mean– could I see you? For your birthday?”

I’m huddled in the corner of the Bunces’ sitting room with my mobile to my ear. There are so many people in the house, I have to cover my other ear to even hear him. I’m almost not sure I heard him correctly at first. I’ve never known Baz Pitch to _stammer_.

It’s my nineteenth birthday. But as I look around the crowded sitting room, I can’t imagine Baz celebrating it here with me. I honestly can’t imagine Baz celebrating with me at all. He’s never been with me on my birthday.

“Baz, I’d love to see you. Just… It’s kind of crowded here. I’m not sure we could. Y’know–” I cover my mouth and lower my voice, “ _get any time alone_.”

I’ve seen Baz a handful of times since he finished at Watford. He’s been staying with his family in Oxford before he moves into Fiona’s flat, but he drives to see me as often as he can get away. And last time he was here we even managed to sneak away from Penny’s house for some, um, _privacy_. In the backseat of Mr. Grimm’s Jaguar.

“I was thinking… Maybe we could spend the day at Fiona’s flat?”

I nearly choke at the suggestion.

“She won’t be there, obviously!” He must hear my panic. “She’s on a trip for work just now. We could… We could spend some time alone.”

“Just you and me, then?”

“Yeah.” I hear the smile in his voice. “Just you and me.”

**Baz**

Last time I saw Simon we were pressed together in the backseat, parked under the shade of a tree in an empty car park. When I pulled back to catch my breath, shadows from the branches were crisscrossing his face. He gazed up at me with lidded eyes and wide pupils, a flush dusting across his cheeks and trailing down beneath his shirt collar. His mouth hung open ( _mouth breather_ ) as he breathed my name.

“ _Baz_.”

I made him look like that. _Sound_ like that. Me, my hands and fingers, my lips and tongue, and just a little bit of teeth. My body pressing against his.

I never imagined love could be like this.

I always knew that love and sex were two things I wanted very badly, but I never knew that the wanting of both could twist through my belly and pull at my heart like this, _at the same time_. Intertwined desire, making my fingers twitch against his skin.

I wanted to fuck in that car.

And now. Now my father is driving me to London in that same car. He insisted.

This is well awkward. He clears his throat. “You’re seeing Simon while you’re in town, then?”

I swallow. We’re talking about Simon now. My _boyfriend_. “Yes, it’s his birthday.”

More silence.

“Basilton… Are you– I just want to make sure–”

I quickly interrupt. Whatever he’s about to say is bound to be embarrassing. “You don’t need to–”

“No. Basilton, listen. Please.”

He glances over at me. I shut up.

“I know you care deeply about Simon.”

My heart starts pounding, and I open my mouth to say something, _anything_ , but he puts a hand up to stop me.

“Baz.” He almost never calls me that. “You don’t need to worry.” He looks at me meaningfully. “You don’t ever need to worry about what I think of you.”

I try to look bored, but I feel tears prick my eyes. _Don’t cry, please don’t cry_. He’s still looking at me, but I break eye contact to look ahead at the road. He looks away from me just in time for me to wipe stubbornly at the first tears slipping from my eyes.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I understand what I _want_ him to be saying, but I don’t dare assume. I nod mutely anyway.

He glances over and sees the tears I’m trying to hide. “Oh, Basilton. You know I love you, don’t you?”

I nod mutely again. ( _Look at the proud Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, crying dumbly in the front seat of his father’s car._ )

“You’re in love with him.” It’s not a question. I swallow.

(On my death bed, if someone asks me if I ever fell silent when asked if I’m in love with Simon Snow, I’ll say “ _Fuck no I didn’t_.”)

“I am.”

He glances at me again. “Does he love you?”

Simon hasn’t told me as much with words. I consider a moment. “I think he might.” We’re quiet a moment. “He treats me like he does. Love me, I mean.”

My father clears his throat and gives the steering wheel a hard tap. “Good man, then.”

**Simon**

We’d originally planned to meet at Fiona’s flat, so I’m surprised when Baz calls to say he and his father would pick me up.

“He knows? That we’re spending the day alone together? _Unsupervised_?”

“Yes…” He’s answering carefully, with his father right next to him.

“ _Does he know I’m bringing an overnight bag?_ ”

Baz pauses. “You are?”

Oh, shit. That wasn’t the right assumption to make. “Well _now_ I’m rethinking it.”

“No, don’t! I mean, don’t rethink it. I think it’s a great idea.” He lowers his voice. “Let’s talk more in person?”

When they arrive, I’m surprised when Mr. Grimm gets out of the car and comes to the door. He even chats with Penny’s parents for a few minutes, but not before clapping me on the shoulder and saying, “Happy birthday, Simon.”

It’s odd sitting alone in the backseat of this car again. Baz is sat up front with his father, looking nervously ahead. I try to relax into my seat, but part of me knows that Mr. Grimm _must_ know what we got up to back here. The thought makes my face flush.

The ride from Hounslow is mercifully short. When we arrive and get out of the car, Baz’s father pulls him aside by the open boot of the car to talk to him in hushed tones. Baz looks stricken. I strain to hear, but no luck.

Finally Baz strides over and takes my hand. “Let’s go upstairs, Snow.” I glance nervously at Mr. Grimm, and see him watching our joined hands. He almost looks… amused. “Thank you, Father. For the ride, and everything.” Baz is being curt, his consonants clipped short, but I can tell something significant is happening.

His father considers before he answers. “Anytime.”

When we’re finally alone in the flat, I turn to him and demand, “What was all that?”

Baz flops down onto the couch. “He knows about us.” He raises an eyebrow when I don’t move from the doorway, and pats the seat next to him. “He’s supportive.”

I stride over and sit down, our legs pressed side to side. “How supportive?”

Baz rubs his hand across his face. “He… he tried to give me condoms.”

My mouth drops open in shock. “And he knows what you would _hypothetically_ do with them?”

Baz nods miserably. “I told him I didn’t need them.” I frown, trying not to show my disappointment. “Then he tried to lecture me on safe sex, and I had to tell him I didn’t need them because I already _bought some myself_.” He presses his face into his hands. “I am so mortified.” It comes out muffled.

I start laughing. “Was that your whole coming out talk with your dad?”

“It wasn’t so much me coming out as much as him gently dragging me out, but more or less.” He leans into me, pressing our shoulders together. “I was always fairly certain he _knew_ , but we never talked about it.”

I slip an arm over his shoulder. “I’m glad it went well then.” He gives me an irritated look. “What? Sounds like it went as well as most people could expect. And apparently he condones us making use of those condoms.” I laugh as Baz grabs a throw pillow and swings it at me.

“You’re pleased, though, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes at me and tucks his shoulder back under my arm. “Yeah.” He tangles his fingers with mine. “I am pleased.”

**Baz**

We’ve been snogging on the couch for ages. I thought we’d at least pretend to watch a movie, but we haven’t even gone through the motions. (We’ve watched a lot of movies at the Bunces’. And unfortunately, I mean we _actually watched them_.)

I wanted to get him alone today for a reason. But now that I have him here, underneath me, pressing his fingers against my hips, all the things I wanted to do to him seem terribly frightening. The fear tingles up and down my limbs and settles with a warm pulse in my gut. _Crowley_ , even my fear is making me hot.

I’m sat on his lap, tangling my fingers into his hair. I smile against his mouth and tug gently on his curls; that earns me a groan, and I’m suddenly glad I’m sitting sideways. (He has to know what he’s doing to me, but I’m shy about him knowing _exactly_ how achingly hard I am.)

I can tell exactly what I’m doing to him, though. I shift my weight to lean heavily against him, pressing my thigh against his erection. He groans into my mouth again and squirms underneath me.

“May I?” I whisper meaningfully to him.

He pulls back to look at my face. “May you _what_ , exactly?”

Fuck. In all my fantasies, the porn, the dirty stories, this just works out. Everything is poetically left unsaid, and he immediately knows that when I say, “ _May I?_ ” I obviously mean “ _May I suck your dick, please and thank you._ ”

I never thought I’d actually have to say those words.

Simon is still looking at me expectantly. I huff out a sigh and press my face against his neck. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Baz. You know I’m no good at guessing. And I…” He takes a shuddering breath. “I really need to feel like I have control over what happens to me, and my body. You know how important that is as part of my recovery.”

I immediately feel guilty. I pull back to look at him. “I know. I–”

He holds a finger to my lips to quiet me. “Also, I really just want to torture you by making you use your words.”

He laughs at my shocked expression and pulls my mouth to his for a completely filthy kiss.

He pulls back just enough to whisper, “What do you want to do to me, Baz?” before pressing his tongue back into my mouth.

There’s that rumbling fear vibrating in my gut again. I try to distract myself by getting lost in this ridiculous kiss.

**Simon**

I’ve an idea of what Baz wants to do, but I do still need him to ask me. He’s humming nervously into my mouth, and his fingers are quivering just slightly against my face. I run my hands up and down his back, trying to reassure him, and it hits me just how much I care for him.

“Go on then.” I bump my nose gently against his. “Tell me what you want.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead against mine. He’s still catching his breath, and I can feel his exhales puff across my lips.

“I want to… May I suck you off?”

It feels like an electric shock through me, and like every part of my body is screaming “ _yes do that now please and never stop!_ ” I nod.

He opens his eyes and looks at me, considering. Then he takes a deep breath and slides off my lap, settling himself on the floor between my knees. He rests his fingers against my belt and pauses. Now _I’m_ shaking.

Slowly, he unfastens my belt and trousers, and starts to pull the zipper down. My heart beats faster. I’m aching against that zipper. And then all at once nothing but my pants is constraining my erection and I groan with relief.

“Simon, can I– I mean, I’ve read that it helps if you– Not that I–” He stops, takes a breath, and goes on without looking at my face. “Can I put a condom on you? I’ve heard it helps prevent overstimulation, and I’m not trying to say I think you’ll finish too fast, but I thought you might enjoy that more?” A slightly pinker shade of pale is crawling up across his face.

“That sounds like a good idea, then.” He exhales in relief, and slips a condom from his pocket.

“Prepared for this, have you?” I smirk at him.

He just rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

**Baz**

Oh Merlin, this is happening. Am I supposed to pull his dick out of his pants? Or does he do that part? He’s looking down at me now, and my hands are actually shaking.

“Do you need me to…” And he puts his hand on his waistband. I nod in relief.

He pulls the elastic down and his dick springs free, bumping against his belly. Crowley. I’m actually doing this.

I tear the condom wrapper open and stare at the little circle between my fingers.

“Have you ever put on a condom, then?” He asks gently. “Because I haven’t.”

“I practiced on myself.” He snorts, and I give him a look. I also watched videos on how to put on a condom with my mouth, but he doesn’t need to know that right now.

He’s waiting for me to reach for him and roll the condom on. That feels like a terrifying threshold to cross. Actually touching him.

“You don’t have to–” I interrupt him by wrapping my fingers around his dick. “Or that’s fine, too.” He arches up into my hand, just a little. I can feel his pulse beat hard against my palm.

I quickly roll the condom over his length and let go to sit back on my heels, my palms flat against his thighs. I wait a moment.

“Are you going to…” I avoid his gaze and nod shortly. In my own time.

I reach forward and grasp the base in my hand again. He startles a little against me. I take a deep breath and dart forward, and take the head into my mouth.

The sound that elicits from him makes me absolutely dizzy.

I curl my tongue against the head before sliding my mouth further down the shaft, taking as much as I can.

“ _Fuck_.” He’s whimpering, and I tip my head to make smug eye contact with him. “Oh, shut _up_.” I raise an eyebrow and pull my mouth off of him with a wet sound.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I can’t help grinning at him and it’s ruining my pretend irritation.

His fingers are twitching. I can tell he wants to pull me back down by the hair. He’d never do that without permission though. (I wonder if I’d like that.)

Suddenly I need to be kissing him. I lean up and press my hand to the back of his neck and pull his face to mine. He hums into my mouth and thrusts against me where my belly is stretched across him.

I pull back again and lean down to slide my mouth over him again. He groans loudly and presses a hand over his mouth. I hum gently to tell him it’s ok to make noise, but I’m not sure he catches my meaning. His head is tipped back against the couch, his brow furrowed in concentration.

I decide I really want to make him come.

**Simon**

I’m sure any bloke getting his dick sucked would say the same, but this is bloody _transcendant_. It’s snogging and magic and butter and flying and wanking and it’s everything and it’s _Baz_. I feel my dick absolutely throbbing in his mouth, and I know he knows. He fucking _knows_.

He knows what he’s doing to me, the cocky bastard, and he’s redoubled his efforts. He grabs my hands (one is still pressed against my mouth) and tangles them into his hair. His head is bobbing up and down, and he slips one hand up, under my shirt to rub a thumb across my nipple. And _Jesus fucking Christ_ that’s something I didn’t know I desperately wanted.

He reaches his other hand down to palm at my bollocks and it’s all too much. I’m going to come. _I’m going to come_.

“I’m going to–”

But I catch myself (and Baz) off guard as I pulse in his mouth. He startles at first but keeps moving until I’m done riding my orgasm and I say “stop stop _stop_.”

He slides his mouth off me and leans up to capture my lips in a filthy open mouthed kiss. I am obsessed with Baz’s mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck and hum against his lips. I’m never letting him go.

He pulls back and grins at me shyly. “I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday.” He ducks out of my arms to lean down and press a kiss low on my belly, and another to the crease of my hip. He slides the condom off and ties it.

“So you decided to give me an orgasm?” I laugh. I’m absolutely giddy and loose and stupid, and I would do anything for him right now.

He laughs too. “So I decided to give you an _astounding_ orgasm.”


End file.
